


The Ghost of Me

by TheWayYouLookTonight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Slow Build, Slow Build to Romance, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWayYouLookTonight/pseuds/TheWayYouLookTonight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky comes back after the events in Age of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Soldier's Return

**Author's Note:**

> This was first inspired by a post I saw on tumblr about what if Sam brought Bucky back at the very end of the film [http://hunt97.tumblr.com/post/117825181721/how-avengers-age-of-ultron-should-have-ended-imo]. So thank you for giving me a good idea!
> 
> The rating for this story will (probably) go up later.
> 
> Unofficial song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsCsAeR8lXo

"When the soldier returned, he was covered in dirt

From the world he was hurt

His eyes were tired

And his mind was wired

But still I ran to him

And embraced him

With all my might

And promised myself that night

That I would never let go

Because I now know

That my soldier has a curse

But without him I am worse."

(J.R.H., "The Soldier's Return")


	2. Chapter 2

"I have been gone, so long and far away; wondering if you will recognize me, when I see you today." (Mike Burton, _Soldier Coming Home_.)

\------------------------------

"You seriously still think it’s some kind of trick after everything that happened?" Tony asked with both exasperation and disbelief in his voice. The group was sitting on the couches in Avengers Tower, having yet another argument about the workings of Thor’s hammer.

"Yes," Clint replied, staring over at Tony Stark with equal exasperation. "I mean, come on. It’s just a hammer. Besides, Vision was able to lift it, does that mean he’s worthy too? He’s not even human." Clint glanced over at Vision. "No offense, buddy."

"None taken," Vision replied truthfully. "My body can withstand much more damage than a human’s body could. And I cannot be corrupted by personal opinions or influence. It’s more of a compliment than an offense. I should thank you."

"Yeah, sure. You’re welcome," Clint said offhandedly, feeling a little insulted.

"It’s not a trick!" Tony insisted, getting the conversation back on track. He needed to get _at least_ this through Clint's birdbrain.

"You’re just bitter because you couldn’t lift it. Even with Rhodey’s help." Clint smirked and took a swig of his drink.

Tony glared in response. "I can't believe you still think it's some kind of magic trick."

"I can't believe the two of you are still arguing over this," Natasha put in. Steve looked over at her, chuckling a little bit. Tony glanced her way, and she knew he was about to say something like "I'll stop arguing when this birdbrain admits Thor's hammer is the real deal." But, he didn’t get the opportunity to say anything because Thor interrupted then.

"Have we not already answered this question? You are simply unworthy," Thor said and everyone in the room groaned.

"Now hold on a minute," Steve started. "An elevator would still go up if Thor’s hammer was in it. Does that make the elevator worthy?"

"See? This is the kind of thing I’m talking about!" Hawkeye blurted out.

" _Would_ the elevator go up?" Natasha asked, taking another sip of her now-lukewarm beer. The guys _had_ been arguing about this for way too long.

"It would have to!" Clint insisted.

"Well, why don’t we test it?" Steve suggested. "What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Uh, you could break the elevator," Tony interjected. "Don’t destroy my tower." Everyone gave Tony a look. " _Our_ tower. Avengers Tower. But it’s still my baby," Tony added under his breath.

"Put it in the elevator!" Clint insisted.

"Yeah, put it in the elevator," Natasha agreed. Everyone looked over at her, having assumed she would be the reasonable one. "What? I’m curious."

"To be honest, I kind of want to know too," Steve admitted.

"Well, to the elevator it is, then!" Clint announced, coaxing Thor into picking up Mjölnir.

With Mjölnir in hand, Thor started walking towards the tower's main elevator. The rest of the Avengers watched intently, waiting to find out what would happen.

Just as Thor was about to reach out and press the button, the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"Who is it?" Tony asked.

"Uh..." Thor started.

"Guys," Sam Wilson’s voice came from behind Thor’s figure. "You will _never_ believe who I found."

Thor stepped out of the way to reveal Sam and a very grimy, very scruffy-looking, but very familiar face.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, being transported back to the first time he had seen his best friend in the future.

"He was sneaking around outside your apartment in D.C. I think he was looking for a way inside." Sam slowly released the grip he had on Bucky’s arm, letting him free.

Steve just stared at the person before him, taking in everything from the inconspicuous civilian clothes he was wearing to the scraggly beard he was sporting. If it hadn’t been for his eyes and the glint of metal peeking out from under the sleeve at his wrist, Steve might’ve not recognized the man standing before him. Or at least not have believed it.

Bucky looked up for a second and met Steve’s eyes, but then quickly looked away.

"I’m not sure he remembers everything," Sam explained. "But I know he recognized me. He tried to run when he saw me, but I caught up to him."

A million questions spun around in Steve's mind. Is he okay? Why now after so long? Has he been inside my apartment? Is he hurt? But, the one that came out of his mouth was, "How did you get him here?"

"That's what you want to know?" Sam asked, a little thrown-off. He figured Steve's first question would be something like "Is he alright?" Sam sighed, "If that's what you want..."

Steve nodded, not looking over at Sam, and only half-hearing him. He was staring at Bucky, taking in every little detail and thinking this had to have been some crazy dream. There was no way this could be real.

"Well, after I caught him, he tried to escape. I mean, he was writhing around like an animal, I had to hold him down and everything." That got Steve's attention. He looked up at Sam, his blue eyes piercing. "Sorry man, I had to. But don't worry, I didn't hurt him."

"So what happened after....that?" Steve took a step forwards, coming closer to both Sam and Bucky. Bucky watched him like an animal would its prey, tracking Steve's every move with his dark eyes.

"Dude, you are never going to believe this, but I told him that I would take him to you and he stopped fighting and just kind of stared at me. It was pretty freaky."

"He stopped?" Steve repeated. He gazed back over at Bucky, wondering if he had stopped because he remembered, or just because Steve had been Hydra's mission.

"Yeah," Sam said, shifting. "Didn't stop him from keeping a gun in hand the whole way here, but he didn't fight and I obviously didn't get shot."

"He has a gun?!" Tony questioned, astonished. "And you brought him into the tower?!"

"Tony, he’s not a murderer!" Steve turned around; defending Bucky and Sam in the case that Tony would try to make a move.

"Um... Steve..." Natasha started.

"Not anymore," Steve corrected.

"You don’t know that for sure," Natasha said. Steve glared at her. "All I’m trying to say is you ended up in the hospital that last time you two were in the same room together. I wouldn’t be so quick to defend him." She looked over Tony. "That doesn’t mean you can immediately condemn him either."

"He tried to kill you!" Tony blurted out, turning towards Steve again. "And if I remember right, he was pretty chummy with Hydra."

"He was their prisoner!" Steve argued.

"And their weapon!"

"He was brainwashed!"

"And trained to kill!"

"So? Natasha was trained to kill too, but we still trust her." Steve gestured at Natasha, who sighed and crossed her arms.

"Wow, Steve, thanks for bringing that one up," Natasha said sarcastically, but Steve ignored her remark, instead continuing to face Tony.

"He’s not a threat," Steve insisted.

"You can't prove that," Tony told Steve. "And if you aren't willing to admit that your brainwashed best friend is an assassin, then I'm going home, where I'm in less immediate danger. If you want to put your life at risk, go ahead. Be my guest."

“Excuse me?” Steve started, getting angry. He regained his composure and then said, "Fine. I will."

"Sorry guys, party's over," Tony announced, as if everyone couldn't already tell from the argument that had just taken place. "I'm flying home to Pepper. See you at Cap's funeral...” Tony turned and walked towards and then out of the door while the other Avengers shifted uneasily.

Steve glanced over at the other Avengers, who looked unreasonably uncomfortable for being superheroes. Even if Steve did think Bucky was going to attack him or the others, he was just one guy, not an army. A group of multiple heroes could definitely take someone like him on, if needed.

"Well, I should probably get headed home too," Clint said, standing and stretching. "See you guys later. Bye Cap, don't die."

"If everyone is parting ways, then I must return to Asgard to continue searching for what my vision meant." Thor got up off of the couch and grabbed Mjölnir from the coffee table. "I suppose we shall have to test the elevator another time. I will speak with you later."

"Wait, you're leaving too?" Clint asked Thor.

"Of course."

"Should we really leave Steve alone with the guy who tried to kill him?" Clint wondered. Steve made a sour face.

"I’ll stay with him," Natasha offered. "The Winter Soldier and I have... _history_ anyways."

"Well, goodnight then," Clint said to Natasha, strolling over to the elevator and pushing the button. He waited for a minute for the doors to open, then stepped inside and waved goodbye to everyone.

Thor walked out onto the balcony and nodded goodbye before swinging Mjölnir in the air and taking off.

"You staying?" Natasha asked Sam, noticing that he hadn’t moved since saying goodnight to everyone.

"I’m not driving back to D.C. tonight. Besides, you might need my help."

Steve sighed, exasperated. "I’ve already told you, he’s not a threat."

"How about you?" Natasha asked Vision, choosing to ignore Steve's indignant response.

"I have nowhere else to go. The Tower is what you would call my home," Vision responded.

Because he had been so quiet during the fight, Steve had forgotten that Vision was here, but he now looked up at him, wondering if Vision also thought it was a generally bad idea to have Bucky around.

"Then you can help us,” Natasha told Vision.

"Help us what?" Sam asked, yawning. "I'm pretty exhausted."

Natasha slowly lifted up her skirt until a holster on her thigh was visible. She grabbed the gun and examined it, checking the safety. "We'll take turns keeping watch," she explained. "I'll take first shift."

"Don’t shoot him." Steve moved so that he was between Natasha and Bucky, acting as a human shield for the latter.

"I can’t promise that." Natasha pulled out the clip of her handgun and exchanged it for a full one.

"Please..." Steve begged. "He’s not dangerous anymore. Promise you won’t shoot."

"I promise I will wait until the very last minute, but if he becomes a threat and your life is at risk, I‘m going to pull the trigger." Natasha spoke very steadily, and to Steve’s dismay, very honestly.

The two stayed locked in a staring match, silently communicating until Sam broke the silence by announcing, “Well, this is awkward... I’m going to go find a bedroom, wake me up when it's my turn to watch."

“I will,” Natasha said. “Bedrooms are a floor down from here, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, heading off.

“I’ll stand guard for now,” Vision told everyone. “Come and find me if you require something.”

Natasha nodded in affirmation and Vision floated off wherever he was going, cape trailing behind him.

"If you hurt him," Natasha started, turning her attention towards Bucky. She cocked her gun, staring the Winter Soldier down. With that, she turned and walked out of view of the boys, though Steve knew she was still watching, and could feel her eyes of the both of them.

Steve and Bucky stayed like that for a second, remaining still, waiting to see if each other would make a move. Bucky was still observing Steve with those same dark eyes, and Steve still wasn't sure if he really believed all this was actually happening. Then, finally, Steve took two large steps towards his best friend and wrapped his arms tightly around him, promising himself he'd never let go again. Last time he did he lost the most important part of his life. Bucky remained still with Steve's arms around him, not returning the gesture, but not shying away from the hug either.

When Steve finally released Bucky from his embrace, he immediately went on to check for any physical trauma Bucky might have.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" Steve asked, remembering Bucky had been injured during the fight on the helicarrier, even though that had been so long ago. Steve reached his hand inside Bucky's jacket, feeling for any wounds through his shirt. The touch of Steve's fingers made Bucky back away from him, looking alarmed and reaching back to place his hand on his gun.

"Okay, no touching yet," Steve said, mostly to himself.

Bucky lowered his hand from his gun when Steve backed away, but still kept a cautious look in his eyes, as if prepared for Steve to attack him. Seeing it made Steve feel horrible inside. He knew it wasn't his fault that Bucky was taken by Hydra, or that he was experimented on and forced to become their weapon, but something about seeing him now made Steve really feel like it was. Like there was something he could've done.

Somewhere in the back of Steve's mind a old memory played over. “It wasn't your fault.... Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him? Then stop blaming yourself.” Steve sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly. He knew that was true, even though he still felt remorse.

Regardless, it was more important what he did now than what he did or didn't do all those years ago. But where should he even begin?There was so much Bucky needed right now. Not just physical care, but reassurance, healing, recovery. Steve knew that Bucky didn't have all his memories back yet, and with the way that Bucky was staring at him like Steve was a possible threat, he wasn't sure Bucky even knew who he was, other than a familiar face.

Steve watched Bucky carefully. Despite his vehement defense of the ex-assassin earlier, he was a little terrified truthfully. Bucky was watching him with darkened eyes that looked deadened, but were somehow very alert at the same time.

“Do you want something to eat?” Steve asked. He wasn't sure, but he thought he had felt the outline of Bucky's ribs through his shirt.

Bucky cocked his head just the slightest bit, like he didn't understand.

“Food,” Steve said. No response from Bucky. “Uh... Nourishment? Sustenance?”

Bucky's head perked up upon hearing the word, and he promptly opened his mouth, waiting, just like he had been trained.

“I have to cook it first,” Steve said. “Wait just a little while.”

Bucky closed his mouth, obeying.

Steve strode into the kitchen, opening the fridge and glancing inside. “What do you want?” He didn't expect a response, but Steve figured he'd ask anyways, if for no other reason than to make himself feel better. Steve didn't get a response either, just Bucky watching him carefully with the same darkened eyes. Steve sighed. He had the sinking feeling that this was going to be the beginning of a very long, very quiet night. But... Steve looked back over at Bucky and the corners of his mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. Even if he was silent and still missing his memories, Steve was just glad Bucky was home. If needed, Steve would always put Bucky back together, no matter how many times he fell apart.

"Hm..." Steve thought aloud, trying to find something at least semi-nutritious to feed Bucky. Most of what the Avengers usually had in their fridge consisted of pizza leftovers, a few bottles of beer, and sometimes milk, since Thor was fond of it. Steve pulled out the vegetable drawer, carefully peering inside. There had been... am unexpected surprise in there last time Steve had looked. Much to Steve's astonishment, this time there was a bag of what looked like fresh broccoli. Steve pulled it out and smelled it. The broccoli didn't smell putrid, so he shrugged and set it on the counter. Closing the fridge, Steve pulled the freezer open. There wasn't much, but there was a pack of frozen steaks. On the front, someone (probably Tony) had written "for 4th of July, DO NOT EAT." Steve took them and set them next to the broccoli.

"What else?" Steve asked, turning towards Bucky for ideas. He would cook a potato, but Steve knew that if he managed to find one, it would be growing. The food state of Avengers Tower was usually pretty sad unless there was a special occasion coming up or something.

Bucky's stomach rumbled and he clutched it like he didn't understand why there was pain. Deciding he probably had enough for now, Steve pulled out a pan and set it on the stove. He knew he should probably thaw the steak before cooking it, but figured it would be okay if he didn't. Bucky was hungry, Steve justified.

Steve started cooking, cutting one of the frozen steaks out of the package and setting it in the pan. Then he went to work on the broccoli, chopping off any bad bits and then setting it aside. After a few moments, the steak barely began to sizzle in the pan and Bucky's head perked up. He sniffed the air, breathing in the scent of food. Steve attended to the cooking meat, smiling at Bucky as he walked by and saw the man waiting hungrily. It felt good to Steve to know that there were some parts of Bucky that were still Bucky, even with all the brainwashing and memory wiping.

After the steak was finally heated up and fully sizzling, Steve started the broccoli, and pretty soon both parts of the meal were finished cooking. Steve hunted down a plate from the cupboard and slid the steak onto it, setting some broccoli adjacent. He placed a pat of butter on top of the broccoli, smiling to himself. He remembered during the 30s when things like butter were rare to get a hold of, especially for people like him and Bucky who often barely made the rent.

“Ready,” Steve said, turning around.

Bucky looked up. He was leaning over the kitchen counter, elbow propped up and his chin laying on the palm of his metal hand.

Steve carefully set the plate down, placing a fork next to it, and, with a little hesitation, a knife. Although Steve _completely_ doubted Bucky would attack him, he did admit to himself that it was dangerous to give your would-be murderer a weapon.

When Steve put out the plate in front of him, Bucky stuck his hand out and picked up one of the pieces of broccoli, sniffing it and carefully tasting it before putting in his mouth. He chewed for a second, and swallowed, then quickly grabbed another piece. After that, Bucky ate the food eagerly, like he was a starved animal.

After only about five minutes, the entire plate of food was gone and there was steak juice dribbling down Bucky's chin. Steve chuckled to himself, and pulled a paper towel off of the roll. Very slowly, he moved over to Bucky and gently wiped the mess from his chin.

“Do you want a drink?” Steve asked him, tossing out the paper towel. “Here.” He reached up and took a glass out the cupboard, reaching into the fridge and pulling out the milk. Pouring a glassful, he slid the milk over to Bucky, who sniffed it carefully. Like a cat would, Bucky stuck out his tongue and lapped up a taste of the milk. He tasted it for a moment and then picked up the glass with his left hand and chugged the rest of it.

“Be careful,” Steve said, worryingly holding out his hand. “I don't want you to throw up.”

Bucky accidentally slammed the glass down on the counter, making a loud sound and causing both him and Steve to jump a few inches.

“Done?” Steve asked, grabbing the edge of the plate Bucky had eaten off of. Bucky looked down at the plate and then up at Steve and the latter could almost hear the sarcastic “well it's empty, isn't it?” comment that Bucky would've have made if it had been before. Steve smiled thinking about it. Turning around, Steve set the plate in the sink and turned on the water, letting it run over the ceramic. When Steve turned back around, Bucky was fingering the knife, not threateningly, but just twiddling it in his right hand. He was staring at Steve, who slowly held out his hand.

"Can I have the knife?" Steve asked, in the manner that someone would ask a dog for their toy. Bucky looked down at the knife and then directly into Steve's eyes. The gaze was very intense and Steve shifted uncomfortably as Bucky's eyes seemed to pierce into his soul. Then, very slowly and carefully, Bucky held out the knife to Steve. A small smile made its way onto Steve's face. Bucky trusted him. At least to a certain extent. Steve very gently took the knife from Bucky's grip, setting it in the sink with the other dishes.

“Now what?" Steve asked, ambiently making conversation, even though Bucky wasn't speaking yet. For a split second, worry took over Steve as he had a horrible thought about Hydra purposefully breaking Bucky's voice so he couldn't talk back or object, but he quickly brushed it away. There would be some missions where they needed the Winter Soldier to speak, right?

Steve sighed. At least Bucky's stomach seemed to be handling the food okay. If there was one upside to the current situation aside from just having Bucky back, that was it. It meant, much to Steve's releif, that Bucky had been eating well and could handle solid, nourishing food.

But about ten minutes later, Steve was proven wrong when both of them ended up in the bathroom, Bucky bent over the toilet and Steve standing worryingly over him with a glass of water in hand.

"No solid food," Steve said aloud, adding to his list of things Bucky couldn't handle yet.

By the time Bucky was done, Steve didn't even want to begin to describe what was in the toilet, seeing as a majority of it was identifiable. Instead, he flushed it and handed Bucky the glass of water. Bucky sipped very slowly, and Steve was pretty certain he was afraid of throwing up again. Both men washed their hands before exiting into the main room of Avengers' Tower.

Steve yawned and looked over at Bucky. He had very dark circles under his eyes, but Steve wasn't sure those came entirely from exhaustion. Bucky seemed just a little too alert to be _that_ exhausted. Then again... Steve thought, remembering the war and all the sleepless nights he had laid awake, terrified there was going to be an attack while he slept. Steve looked over at the clock and was a little shocked when he saw it was already after midnight.

“Are you ready for bed?” Steve turned towards Bucky who looked at him, and acknowledged that he had spoken, but didn't seem to register what Steve was saying.

“Sleep,” Steve elaborated. To this, Bucky looked a little scared and took a slow step backwards, away from Steve.

“Uh, rest,” Steve corrected himself, not sure what had triggered that reaction in Bucky, but wanting to make sure the other man trusted him and wasn't afraid. “Not sleep.”

Bucky still just stared at Steve, but his posture relaxed.

“Bedrooms are this way,” Steve told Bucky, motioning for him to follow. He led Bucky to the floor where the bedrooms were and showed him to one of the guestrooms. He wanted to tell Bucky to stay in his bedroom with him, so he wouldn't be alone. Steve remembered how bad the nightmares had been when he first came back. But, he knew that would make the ex-assassin uncomfortable, so Steve let him enter the guestroom and shut the door behind him.

“Goodnight, don't let the bedbugs bite,” Steve said through the door, repeating one of their childhood calls and he thought he heard Bucky grunt in response.

 

Later that night, Steve was awakened by a horrible scream of pain coming from down the hall. Acting off of sheer adrenaline and instinct, Steve shot up out of bed and practically ran  down the hall to the bedroom where Bucky was staying.

"Bucky? Are you okay?" Steve asked, slowly opening the door and letting himself in. Inside, Bucky was thrashing around on the bed, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. With each breath, his whole body shook, like he was experiencing a horrible physical pain.

"Bucky wake up! It's only a dream!" Steve rushed over and gently shook his friend until he awoke from his nightmare. Bucky jolted forwards, digging his fingers into Steve's shoulder and clavicle. He was still breathing hard, the blankets twisted around his body like restraints. Where there had been darkness in Bucky's eyes before, there was now only terror and his whole body was quivering like a flame about to go out.

"Bucky, Bucky, it's okay. You're here, in Avengers Tower, with me," Steve said slowly, trying to calm the shuddering mess in front of him.

Bucky shook his head, his eyes unfocused. He was still clutching Steve tightly, his fingernails dug deep into the skin, almost drawing blood.

Natasha appeared in the doorway, her gun drawn. "Steve, what's wrong?"

Bucky took in a shuddering breath when he saw the glint of the gun Natasha was carrying, his grip of Steve tightening and piercing the skin. Red appeared around Bucky’s fingertips, painting Steve’s skin.

"Go," Steve told Natasha. He didn't turn to look directly at her, but instead kept his face where Bucky could see it clearly.

"Are you-"

"I've got this under control. He was just having a nightmare, that's all," Steve explained. His voice was very steady and very calm.

"That didn't sound like all," Natasha muttered under her breath. But, she walked out of the doorway, leaving Steve to calm Bucky down.

"Bucky,” Steve said very steadily. He gently took hold of Bucky’s hand, removing it from his shoulder. The blood on Bucky’s fingers smeared across Steve’s pale palm, staining him. Grasping Bucky’s hand between his own, Steve spoke slowly, desperately trying to remember what Sam had told him about helping with nightmares.

“It’s okay. I don’t know what you’re experiencing right now, but it’s not real. I’m right here.” Steve moved one of his hands to wrap his arm around Bucky's shoulders in order to ground him and reassure him, but Bucky shied away from the motion, flinching.

Steve sighed, feeling useless. Wasn't there anything he could do? Bucky wasn't shaking as harshly as he had been before, but he was still shivering. Steve vividly remembered having nightmares, he still had them sometimes, but he had always had an escape. Whether it was talking to Sam, or going to the gym to beat on the punching bags, or just doing something that calmed him down, it helped. Bucky didn't have that. He didn't have all -or maybe even any- of his memories and he couldn't trust anyone yet. To say he was a train wreck would be an understatement.

"God, Buck, what are we going to do?" Steve wondered aloud, not expecting a response. Bucky hadn't spoken since he came back, and Steve figured it would be a while until he did.

Steve shifted on the bed, intending to get up and switch positions, but Bucky's grip on Steve's hand tightened and stopped him. He looked up and Steve could see the fear of being left alone on his face.

"It's alright," Steve assured Bucky. He clutched Bucky's hand harder, intertwining their fingers and squeezing back. "I'm just going to move and come up onto the bed more," Steve explained, adjusting his position as he spoke. Slowly, he leaned back against the headboard. "There, better."

After watching, Bucky copied Steve's motion, so they were both leaning back and more comfortable. Bucky's eyes were still glazed over, Steve noticed, but he was actively gripping Steve's hand. Steve sighed. At least Bucky was out of the nightmare and grounded.

They remained calmly in silence for a moment, then Steve got an idea and turned so he was looking directly at Bucky. "Do you remember when we were younger, when we went to Coney Island for the first time? You made me ride on the roller-coaster, the Cyclone, and I threw up afterwards. You were a real jerk about it too, teasing me for the rest of the day. But it was worth it, just to spend time with you. I had fun too, despite your insistence that 'Steve Rogers is chicken!' because I wouldn't go on it a second time with you." Pausing, Steve concentrated on Bucky's face for a moment. Although his eyes were still unfocused, something in Bucky's expression had changed, so Steve continued. "And that time in '39, we didn't have enough money to pay the rent, so you went out somewhere. At the time, I had no idea how you managed to scrape together what we needed. But then the next month, when I was at a bar, someone had left a magazine open and your stupid face was smiling up at me. You weren't wearing anything but a sailor's cap, though your arm was covering up your uh.... um, yeah. Or when we were kids..."

Steve and Bucky stayed like that for the remainder of the night. The two of them sitting back on the bed with their hands clasped together to reassure Bucky, while Steve told him about stories about things that had happened in their past. Whether or not Bucky actually remembered these things, hearing Steve's voice recounting their crazy adventures seemed to relax him. And for that, Steve was glad.

By the time the sun finally rose, Steve was exhausted, but Bucky was calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first chapter.... Hope you enjoyed! I have no regular updating schedule, but I will put up new chapters as I finish them!

**Author's Note:**

> Just mentioning this: obviously Bruce is still missing, so he won't be a part of this. But since I don't ship Brucenat (no offense to anyone who does, I just personally can't see them together in that way), I will not be referencing that part of the movie. BUT, in keeping as true as possible to the film, I will also not be replacing that with another ship.


End file.
